


Possibility

by kindaquirky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Babies, Erica and Boyd live, Families of Choice, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Tumblr Prompt, all the sad feelings, seriously with the babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:38:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindaquirky/pseuds/kindaquirky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on Tumblr, "Stiles notices just how good Derek is with the babies of the pack, and starts leaving not so subtle hints for Derek, who may be more oblivious than originally thought."</p>
<p>Through the years of his relationship with Derek, Stiles has always felt the pull, the want, of more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibility

**Author's Note:**

> Written for[ this prompt on Tumblr](http://kingdom-under-the-mountain.tumblr.com/post/71120854384/reigndeerek-sterek-au-stiles-cant-help-but) which would not leave me alone. And kisses to Meghan again, for not even being in this fandom and dealing with my editing woes.

The first time Stiles feels it, they're at a pack gathering. After everyone's families had been told that their children were creatures of the night and accepted that Derek was not demon spawn for turning them, Derek put out the olive branch of a gathering for them to grab. They're nineteen, and Stiles watches Derek play with one of Boyd's little sisters, Cora laughing at them when he lets her climb him like a jungle gym even though she's already ten. The trigger is the mix of exasperation on Derek's face and the way he makes sure to curl his arm so she doesn't fall that makes Stiles' stomach tighten, all the possibility, the lost opportunity of Derek getting to do this with his younger siblings. The tug intensifies when he sees Mr. Boyd call quickly to her, still afraid to an extent and not completely trusting, sees the tightness that Derek carries for the rest of the barbeque and tries not to think about all the opportunities and how Stiles wants for them to be with him.

 

Stiles is twenty-one the next time his gut clenches, and he thinks. He and Derek are still new, still fresh. The glances and almost touches changing to stares and quick moments to closed eyes and touches that never seem to end. It's the summer between semesters, and he's trying not to think about long distance and statistics when they go to grab Scott from the hospital where he's finishing up his nursing practicum for the day. Derek winces as they pass a room with a crying child, and Stiles listens to the joyful noises that seem to permeate this floor. That for all the sadness it does often hold, people always seem to grasp the hope that lives on in this small section of the hospital. They come across Scott, handing a newborn back to a nurse, smiling and radiating happiness. When Stiles asks what's going on Scott answers casually, like people let him handle tiny bundles of life all of the time, and knowing Scott, they probably should. Stiles looks over to see why Derek is so quiet to see him kneeling and making faces with a little boy standing in a doorway to a private room, making the boy laugh. Stiles watches in silence, his stomach clenching and chest expanding while watching Derek bring this little boy a few seconds of fun while his family most likely coos over their new member. Scott snorts and look over at Stiles like he knows exactly where Stiles thoughts are going. Stiles gives him a confused glance, like he doesn't understand where its coming from or how he even got to this point. Scott just pats his shoulder a few times while they watch Derek and his game until the boy is called away and waves him off.

“Ready?” Derek asks as he rises, his face neutral as he puts his hand on the small of Stiles' back, moving him and Scott to the exit.

“Yeah, pretty ready,” Scott says when Stiles is silent, too busy of thinking what right now looks like and what forever could be.

 

Stiles is twenty-five and situated. Happy. Living in a small apartment with Derek on the edge of Beacon Hills, close to his father, his pack, his everything. Erica has the baby on a Tuesday and calls the the pack absolutely ridiculous when they all call in sick to work when she's still only in labor. Scott uses his privileges of being a nurse and any favors he saved up to have Erica be on his rotation, checking as often as possible, and making sure none of them get kicked out. Both sets of parents arrive later that afternoon and shortly after them, so does the new baby. After each new grandparent has a chance to hold Marcus, Erica passes him to Derek. Derek doesn't have to be told to hold Marcus' head like Stiles had been told the first time he held one of his younger cousins, before his mother's family lost contact after her death. Derek gently soothes the baby to silence, small whimpers tapering off until Marcus is sleeping gently in his Alpha's arms, and no one tries to force him to give up the baby, even when Derek tries to pass him to Lydia, who looks like she's bitten into a lemon when presented with the baby. Stiles' gut clenches, and he smiles, running his hands through Derek's hair while Derek sits and holds the newest member of their strange but happy pack. When Derek smiles up at him, his heart is beating so fast he's amazed it stays in his chest. Scott snorts at him and nudges his shoulder before he leaves, giving Stiles a look that he hopes no one else can decipher due to their long standing relationship of being able to read each other better than anyone else, and just sighs deeply.

Scott, he later finds out, is possibly the worst and best person Stiles could ever hope to know. When Derek comes home with the paperwork and fills it out on the couch, Stiles has a small spasm.

“N.I.C.U. Volunteer?” Stiles asks, reading over Derek's shoulder because if he didn't want Stiles reading it then he should know better than to sit in reading distance.

“It's a program where you sit and hold the babies when families aren't around or they don't have families.”

“You hold them?”

“Babies need touch. And parents still need to work to cover all the medical bills. So people help out. Scott thought it might be good. Want me to ask him for another set of forms?”

“No, I can...that's Scott's handwriting,” Stiles says looking closer at the forms.

“Yeah. By ask, I mean he cornered me at the grocery store, pulled them out of that satchel he always hauls to work, and threw them at me telling me I just needed to sign.”

“That's Scott for you. And I think this is a good idea. Babies seem to like you.”

“I ended up babysitting my younger siblings a lot. Easy way to make a few dollars,” Derek shrugs, and Stiles still isn't at the point where he takes these small facts of Derek before the fire for granted. He probably never will.

“You probably gave in all the time didn't you? Total pushover right? They got to do whatever they wanted.”

“Cora may or may not have used that to her advantage.”

“What's 'used'? She still uses that her to her advantage.”

Stiles is laughing when Derek hits him in the face with the papers and feels something tighten at the sheer _possibility._

 

It comes to him in flashes when Derek comes home with another toy – for Marcus that will make Erica just as happy or for Adeline that will make Allison roll her eyes and Scott will try to send home with them when they watch her. It comes when Derek returns from volunteering with a quick kiss and a mumble about smelling like babies. It comes when Stiles gets home from forensics and his cold cases to see that Derek has been conned into watching Marcus yet again instead of Boyd's little sister who's suppose to be saving up for a car. It tugs at him when Derek calms the now two Marcus, or when Allison shoots Derek looks of annoyance mixed with gratitude when Adeline, just six months, lies quiet her crib for hours after Derek lays her down.

“Derek is like the baby whisperer,” Scott says after Derek has left the deck to lay Adeline down for her mid-morning nap, Allison already sleeping during her respite while Derek is here. “When exactly are you gonna get on that?”

“It's...difficult man,” Stiles shrugs. and Scott knocks shoulders with him, both of them still waiting for the time when they grow out of living in each others pockets like their parents and teachers said they would.

“How? Look at him. I can't even get her that quiet that fast. It's not a wolf thing, that is straight up a Derek thing. He likes kids. What's the problem?”

“He's never said he would like kids with me,” Stiles says quietly, looking anywhere but at Scott, who understands him a lot better than anyone has the right to.

“Have you?”

Stiles pauses and looks at Scott who rolls his eyes and gets him into a headlock while Stiles thinks of all the moments he could have had.

“I brought it up hypothetically after Addy was born,” he retorts, still trying not to wake the baby.

“And? Hypothetically?” Scott loosens his hold slightly to make it easier for Stiles to breath.

“Derek said he never gave it much thought. That he sees a lot of kids at the hospital and with Marcus and Adeline.”

“That's not a no,” Scott says and releases him before Derek comes back outside and wraps his arm around Stiles' waist.

 

 

Stiles is twenty-eight and settled. Derek, deciding that rebuilding the Hale house would be too hard, finally finishes the repairs on the fixer upper they decided on after they figured out apartment living was just not made for their pack who still maybe sits too close or holds on too long after all they had gone through. One bedroom wasn't enough when it came to how often Marcus wanted to stay over and spend his extra time with Derek.

“If you try to steal my kid and never give him back, I will be unamused,” Boyd said when they showed him the guest room. Marcus was already claiming a spot for his toys, pushing Adeline's to the side much to her displeasure.

“Make another one,” Stiles said. “We already basically time-share this one,” he pointed to Adeline toddling over to play with Marcus, making Erica snort.

“Get you own. We can trade, see if they notice,” she said, looking at Derek who shoved her into the room, making her laugh and grab her son.

 

Stiles puts the first pamphlet in their sock drawer before he leaves for work while Derek is out running. It's short and simple, explaining the pros of adoption and local help lines. He comes home to find it on top of the bureau that evening when he gets home before Derek, and takes the fact that it hasn't been tossed as a good sign. Derek doesn't bring it up that night. Nor the next time when Stiles places another one talking about gay parents and their options in Derek's suit jacket pocket before he heads off to his job at the bank. And when Derek says nothing when he leaves a list of local agencies in his shoes while Derek showers, Stiles figures it's a lost cause. He tries to box up all those feelings and thinks about how much easier it was when he was nineteen and everything then was chance and hope and instability whereas now its all steadiness and love and other people's families.

 

 

Scott rarely gets cornered at work. Mostly it's other nurses trying to swap shifts or students asking for help. Never once has it been his Alpha, fresh from the N.I.C.U. and smelling like babies and sadness and that thin layer of light and air that Scott will always associate with hope.

“Why does Stiles always smell sad now?”

It's not a question, because it shouldn't ever be one, not really.

“I don't live with him, how should I know? Is it a case?” Scott knows how seriously Stiles can take cold cases, his need to figure out the who and the why taking over at times.

“No. He just finished a case; they're taking a break. This was after that. You're basically the other side of his brain, so why do you think he's...?”

And that's when Scott figures out the lingering feel of sadness isn't from the families: it's from Derek.

“This is really getting to you isn't it?”

“He's...he's never been like this before.”

“Anything major different?”

Scott has an idea, is pretty sure of it in fact, but knows he needs to lead Derek to the answer for him to believe it.

“Not really. He's been a little more scattered lately.”

“With what?” Scott asks slowly, nodding at a coworker who makes signals to the cafeteria behind a confused Derek.

“Paperwork. Some pamphlets and studies on children from gay families and overachiever issues, things like that. I figured they were for work.”

“You may seriously be the densest person on the face of the planet. I didn't want to believe Issac, but oh my god, you are serious right now aren't you? Stupid, the paperwork was for you! And he really brought out the studies already? How long has he been giving you this stuff?”

“Giving? One of them was in my shoe, Scott.”

“Well, it was definitely for you. Once Stiles wanted me to read up on faeries so he slid a book into my pants. Subtlety is not a trait we love Stiles for.”

“Why is he giving me all of this stuff, and why is it causing him so much pain?” Derek's fists are clenched, his voice is tight, and Scott realizes that it's less what is causing Stiles to hurt, but Derek trying to figure out what he did, and if this is something else he's messing up, if he's ruining what he and Stiles have worked so hard on. Scott remembers the hurt in Stiles voice during college, when he felt too far away to try and help Derek, or when Derek and Stiles first moved in together and Derek tried to change everything to fit Stiles needs making Stiles crazy and Derek even tenser. Scott realizes that even through long distance, learning each other, and fights that sent Stiles to Scott's couch, nothing has hurt Stiles more than the thought of never having a family with Derek, of building what they both lost, so Scott changes tactics.

“When did he stop leaving them around the house?” he asks mildly.

“A week ago,” Derek says, and Scott wants to hit him for making Stiles feel that bad for so long, but then again he wants to hit Stiles for being his normal self, figuring that everyone's brains make the same jumps that his does.

“And when did he start...being sad?”

“A little before that.”

“Well, they definitely weren't for a case, Derek. There's not a doubt in my mind that those were there for a reason. You need to talk to him about it. It's not going to just go away, no matter how much Stiles tries to ignore it.”

“Why would...” Derek starts and fades, looking past Scott's shoulder, where he can hear a family leaving a birthing room and heading to be released.

“You need to talk to him.”

 

 

Stiles is halfway through making dinner when Derek gets home from the hospital, coming in through the backdoor. Stiles feels his shoulders tense and tries to push the feeling to the back of his mind, like he's always been able to do with his problems.

“Stiles?” Derek asks quietly, wrapping his arms around Stiles and resting his chin on Stiles' shoulder.

“How was the hospital?” Stiles asks lightly, continuing to concentrate on making the dressing for the salad the way he knows Derek likes it. When Derek shrugs, Stiles moves with him, Derek is holding him so tight. Stiles thinks, maybe this is enough, he can work with this, with love so seeped into his bones sometimes he thinks he can feel it and a grip so tight he never feels alone. He just needs to concentrate on the now and not the what-if, like he always does.

“Ran into Scott before I left.”

“Oh, and did my one and only need something?” Stiles asks earning a small snort from Derek.

“Ended up talking about you actually.”

“Obviously. Scott may love Allison, but even she concedes that I am the sun and stars of both of you.”

“Funny. We ended talking about how absent minded you can be. And how that looks exactly like you trying to leave someone hints.”

Derek tightens his hold, feeling Stiles tense as he sets down the whisk and bowl.

“And how exactly, do they look the same?” he asks keeping his voice steady, trying to turn in Derek's arms and Derek backing up to let him.

“Stiles, you left one of Lydia's textbooks in the fridge once. You found a cold case file in the laundry room because you were trying to multitask.”

“Those are pretty random examples.”

“Should I include the papers in my sock drawer, or my jacket, or my wallet, or shoes or the one in the bathroom? I'm pretty sure I could keep going.”

“You forgot your sun-visor and the ads taped to some of your business cards.”

“I still have no idea how you got into the bank to do that.”

“I'm still a cop. I'm taught how to blend in. And I may have just used the ones you keep at home and hoped you grabbed them before you left for work.”

“Why are you leaving adoption pamphlets in my sock drawer, Stiles?” Derek asks softly.

“How are you so dense? Do I have to spell it out to you?” Stiles can feel how distraught he is, and he knows it's on his face. “You're so good with kids. You always have been. Marcus thinks you've hung the moon no matter how much Boyd tries to remind him he's actually his son. Adeline is so calm with you, and you're calm with her, and they just...love you, and you always look like you love them back so much, and maybe I just thought we could have that too. But I get it,” Stiles pulls himself together when he sees Derek's face crumble the longer he talks. “If this is your way of saying you don't want kids then that's fine. I just wish you would come out and say it because the waiting has lost its novelty.”

Stiles chokes at the end, and Derek comes close again, cups his hands around Stiles face and kisses him soft and slowly. Stiles thinks as he closes his eyes that if this is what sorry feels like than he doesn't want it because it hurts almost as much as not knowing at all.

“Stiles. I'm a werewolf, not a mind-reader.” And that makes Stiles snort through the tears threatening to drop, and he swears he can feel a similar dampness from Derek, but he's still too scared to open his eyes and not see the same amount of _want_ coming from Derek. “Why didn't you just say you wanted a baby?”

“Because it's not about what I want. It's about what you want too. And it's not just a baby, it's a toddler, and a kid and, Christ, even a pre-teen, and teaching them to roll their eyes like I do, and huff like you do, and learning all the little things we never knew they could do, and I can't be the only one who wants that. But if you don't that's fine, really it is,” he says quickly as Derek huffs against him, cutting off anything Derek might have said by burrowing closer and resting his forehead against Derek's neck. Derek's hands cradle Stiles' neck. “You don't need to pretend or want. We can get all of that with Marcus and Addy and whenever Issac gets around to having them we can still have-” and Stiles cuts himself off.

“A family? Stiles, look up please,” Stiles drags his face up and looks at Derek.

“I'm sorry,” Stiles says. “I just. Give me a few days alright?”

“Stiles,” Derek says gently, “Why didn't you say anything? Why did you work yourself into this? I thought we were past this. You can come to me with anything. With _everything._ Including this. And where in all of that did you hear me say I didn't want kids?”

“You never said you did,” Stiles says weakly.

“You didn't really give me a chance to say anything before apologizing for wanting a family. With me.”

Derek looks at him like he's never seen him before, like the first time Stiles told him he loved him, and Stiles can forget sometimes that Derek never got to have everything he wanted.

“Do...do you want that?”

“Do I want a family with you Stiles?” Derek reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the small pamphlet Stiles stole from the hospital, 'Adoption and You'. “Yeah, I really do.” And Derek kisses him easy and sweet and Stiles figures out that this is what _forever_ feels like.


End file.
